A Mirror's Reflection
by Sarlinia
Summary: We all wonder about Zelgadis...what was he like as a child, when he was still human. Here Zelgadis remembers his past: when he was a child with his parents...his life with Rezo, his meeting with Lina and company, and what happened to him in the time bet
1. part one

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Slayers, or any of the characters from the series. This is not for profit…nope no profit what so ever. Why am I doing this then? I have an over active imagination that will not be pacified until it is written down (plus it has a mind of its own…WON'T LET ME STUDY!!!). So now that I've written this, there won't be any reason for anybody to sue me. 

NOTES: after watching the first episode of Slayers TRY, my mind began to twist and turn after what was said between Zelgadis and Lina. If anyone notices, Zelgadis seems calmer, but also more…evil I guess (though I doubt Zel would ever be evil!). Also he seems more nervous when being watched. I started wondering what in the world happened to him in the time between NEXT and TRY. So here is what my crazy mind came up with. Enjoy! Actually, this has A LOT of Zelgadis torture…so if you don't want to see Zelgadis get hurt, cry, or anything, then I suggest you don't read it.

  
A MIRROR'S REFLECTION  
PART I  
  
"So Zel, you've been doing okay, haven't you?" 

I say nothing, my thoughts far away. I want to tell Lina the truth. I want to reveal to her everything. Lina Inverse, loud-mouthed, rude, greedy Lina Inverse. She was the first one to have befriended me…the first one to have looked beyond this cursed body that I am imprisoned in…the first one to see me as I was before…when I was human in flesh and soul.

Before Rezo…

No. It started before Rezo…

I guess it started with my family…my parents…my home…

…

Born an only child. My mother was an extremely beautiful, and my father a handsome warrior. I can remember them even now, exchanging the ritual morning kiss on the cheek. I can still hear my mother's smothered laugh as my father rubbed his beard against her smooth and flawless cheek. They loved each other. Yes, love. That love that you read in books…that love that Lina and Gouarry have, though they don't know it yet.

The love that I see when I look at Gouarry and Lina.

I had my father's hair, a deep violet, and his icy blue eyes that he used to stare me down after a childish misadventure. The rest of me was my mother. I was small, thin…weak in body. The total opposite of my father who was tall and muscular. No, I was not sickly…just weak.

I remember coming home after a fight with a boy. I was beaten and bloody. I hadn't been able to touch him. He was larger, heavier, and stronger; everything that I wasn't. I hated him. I hated all those who were around to see my beating, all those who cheered him on as blow after blow struck my frail body. I hated the way they laughed as I cried for him to stop…yes I cried tears, and begged for him to leave me. My father was furious, and my mother near hysterics. Father carried me to a healer, and there I was healed with magic. A healing spell.

I never told them who beat me up, but I guess they knew, for that boy and his family moved away soon after.

Things became peaceful…so peaceful. Father tried teaching me how to use a sword. After all, I was the future master of the house. When my father was gone, I would be the master. I had to be strong so that I could protect my mother in my father's place. I listened and I tried to learn, but as I said…I was weak. The swords were too heavy, and no matter what kind of exercised my father gave me, no matter how firm my muscles became the result was the same…nothing.

Father decided to leave off of sword work, and began tutoring in other things. Literature, art, science, geography, math…everything. If I couldn't be strong in body, than I would be strong in mind.

I made him proud.

I excelled in all my studies, and loved staying indoors, reading volumes of books. My mother and I would sit for hours on end at the fireplace reading to each other. In the evening, my father would come and we'd have a bought with the sword, or he'd playfully wrestle with me. I loved my parents, I loved my home.

One day father hired a magician. His name was Zolf. I like him for he was funny, tall and skinny in a gawky way. He was clumsy, and loved to amaze me with simple magic. I wanted to learn! I thirsted to learn and be strong!

Though when I asked to learn my parent's faces froze, as I had asked something wrong. Father sent me away to my room, and there I sat unable to understand what had I said to have made them react so negatively. Trust me, Father mad was not something pretty…mother mad was even worse…put them together and I guess the fear that I felt would rival Lina's fear to her older sister.

Mother came to me the next morning, and stroking my hair she reassured me that they were not angry with me. I remember her words till now:

"My Zelgadis, why do you want to learn magic? Are you not already satisfied with your studies as a scholar?" He voice was soft and beautiful…so beautiful was my mother.

"I'd like to be strong. I can't protect you with words from a man who has a sword. I want to be strong to protect you. I want to be the master of the house like father." I said earnestly, casting a fleeting glace at my open door. I could see the shadow of my father, listening but not getting involved.

"Do you truly wish this, my Zelgadis? Please answer me truthfully, child."

Why all these question? Why this fear? Why?

I hesitated, staring at her. Then I nodded, for yes, I wanted to learn, I wanted to be strong.

It was decided then, Zolf would tutor me in simple magic. Nothing fancy like Ray Wing, or Fire Ball. Simple stuff like Healing, and Illumination. I wasn't that good, and Zolf was a good or patient teacher. I didn't care though, for though it took me a long time to learn what he had taught me, in the end I mastered every spell he threw at me.

So thing went on peacefully…except the time I tried to use a minor fire spell to light up the fireplace. No one was hurt, and nothing was destroyed, but my mother and father were furious. Instead of igniting a small fire as Zolf had taught me, I tried starting a big one to cut time. The fire shot up the fireplace and through the chimney, so large was the pillar of flames that sprang out of our chimney that the neighbors and city officials came running to our home. Father calmed them down; assuring that it was just an accident on my account. As I said, mother and father were furious, as was Zolf and every other person in the city.

I decided to lay low on the magic, going back to focusing on my scholarly studies and a little sword-work.

The incident was forgiven, and father stopped glaring at me like he wanted to pound me to the ground, and mother stopped giving me nervous looks as if I was some monster who had somehow taken over her son's body. Again, it was this odd reaction to magic that had me baffled. I was positive that if I had done some hair-brained stunt with my sword, my parent's reactions would have been calmer. It was the magic…they feared the magic and I wanted to know why.

I remember while I was still in punishment, I was walking by my father's study. I paused when I heard my name being spoken. Placing my ear on the wooden door I listened in to what was being said.

"Zolf, you promised not to teach him anything powerful, or anything that has to do with Dark Magic." That was my father.

"But Master Greywvers, that spell he cast was nothing other than a simple fire spell to light candles with or camp fires!" Said Zolf in his defense. What he said was true, that spell I had cast was just a small fire spell, nothing more.

My father's angry voice boomed, "That was no candle lighting spell!"

"Master, it was that spell! Listen, please. What young Master Zelgadis did was add some power to the spell, giving it more strength. I never thought that he'd be so powerful at his age, but this is no fault of his or mine!"

"What do you mean?" This was my mother's calm beautiful voice.

"I mean that our young Master has no control of his powers or how to control them. It is not his fault that the power went array."

I then heard my father ask in a low voice, "Do you think that…"

Mother cut him off sharply, "No! Our Zelgadis is not like him!"

"I mean the power." Said father. "Do you think he is as powerful as him? Zolf?"

Zolf answered tiredly. "I have no clue, Master. He is still only thirteen, and has much growing to do. It is too early to tell anything other than that he has potential of becoming a very powerful sorcerer like…"

"Don't speak his name!" Roared my Father suddenly, making me jump.

Swallowing hard, I decided that I had heard enough, and ran to my room. I remember feeling the sweat run down my neck, and that my hands had gone ice cold. Was this fear? Why was it that I was filled with this feeling of dread and fear at what had just been said? Who was this person that my father forbade to even name? Who was this 'him' whom they feared I was like…or I had powers like him?

But then I realized suddenly something that my eleven-year-old mind had not thought of before…or to be exact: what I had not noticed before. It was not only the magic that my parents feared…it was also me.

I hated it. That feeling that I cannot describe. Can one describe the feeling that one feels at realizing that their own parents feared them! My parents feared me, and I hated it. I didn't want it. I wanted to be normal, even if I never spoke another incantation again. I couldn't bear with the fear that I felt that came from my parents.

Oh, have no doubt, my parents loved me. I was their gift from the gods. But they still feared me, and I was ready to do anything to make it stop.

I stopped the magic. I shut it away deep inside and decided to forget I ever was able to turn a simple candle lighting spell to a pillar of raging inferno. I didn't want it, and for my parent's sake I convince myself that I didn't need it. I never went to Zolf again for training, and I never mentioned the incident or the fact I had ever been able to cast a few small spells.

And the fear disappeared.

Two years went by. I was once again normal if weak as a little girl. I studied philosophy and politics, finding fun debated with father and his comrades. I especially like talking with the old veteran Rodimus. I remember thinking that if ever I had a grandfather or an uncle, then he would be the perfect one. He never said anything about my physical weakness, ignoring the fact that I was one scrawny weak little thirteen-year-old boy. I remember that he told me that I had a fighter's spirit, and that if I wanted to that I could become an excellent swordsman.

I thought he was only playing with me, taking pity on me like so many others had done before.

I'll always cherish the memories of those last two years. The time I spent with mother, reading, talking and walking. When I wrestled with father, clashed swords with him, and when I beat him in chess and won arguments. I'll always cherish the times I ran around the estates, laughing in boyish glee, enjoying just being alive and happy.

I'll always cherish those last two years…

For that summer of my thirteenth year, I lost everything and ceased to be happy.

What happened?

What always happens!

War! Meaningless, brutal wars that tear families apart!

Funny how now, after all these years I can't remember what it was about. All I can remember is the anger, the panic, and the fear. Father was leaving to fight, taking Rodimus and Zolf with him as well as all the able bodied young men in the household. I wanted to go, I argued, I pleaded, I shouted and I wept, begging my father to take me with him.

Obviously, father refused. I was too young, too small…too…I knew he wanted to say it.

Weak.

If I had been tall, muscular and able to swing a sword at thirteen, father would have taken me. But no. I was too weak to go into battle.

Father tried calming me by saying that now I was the master of the house, and that my responsibility lay in my mother's well being. I was to protect her with my life if anything happened.

I knew that it was all talk. Nothing was going to happen. Father was just trying to make me feel better because I was being left behind.

Till now I find myself still weeping at how wrong I was.

Father had been gone for nearly a month. Mother and I heard news everyday at how the fighting was going. We were losing the battle, even I could tell, though mother kept on telling me not to think such things. Soon wounded soldiers and refugees from villages started appearing in our city. Mother opened our home to them, giving those unfortunate souls sanctuary from the harsh weather.

I was constantly by mother's side, making sure that when she mingled with the refugees non-ever stepped their bounds with her. None did to my relief, though at times I found myself excited at the prospect of defending mother. I wanted father to return to hear that I had heroically saved her…or al least done something remotely heroic!

I remember listening to what the refugees said, about the enemy army sacking their homes, killing everyone who got in their way. They even told of trolls and berserkers among the enemy, and an occasional werewolf. I found myself doubtful at some of the things they said, dismissing them as stories created by panic and grief-stricken people.

Mother disagreed. As the days dragged on she became more and more nervous. Nothing I did could calm her.

She finally spoke to me, "Zelgadis…something is wrong. We must be prepared to flee."

"Flee?!" I gasped. "Flee where? What are you talking about, mother?"

"The enemy is approaching." Mother whispered, her beautiful voice grave, her eyes narrow. "If they come we have no means of defending ourselves."

"They won't come," I tried to assure mother. "We are in a large city, not some small village. Its different."

Mother looked up at me and raised her hand, cupping my check tenderly. "My sweet Zelgadis, what do you think they will do to you if they come?"

"They won't come." I said, pulling away and clutching her hand. It was so cold. "We are safe." I smiled charmingly at her, and to my surprise I saw her eyes misty with tears.

She wrapped her arms around me, cradling me as if I were once again a small child. "Sweet innocent boy. Have you any idea how much I love you…how much we both love you?"

I found myself suddenly frightened at her words, and I clutched at her, inhaling her scent.

Mother stroked my lavender hair. "Sweet Zelgadis, always remember that we love you. Never forget that. And know that I would die protecting you, my little one."

I shut my eyes, and allowed her to hold me. Usually I wouldn't let her do this, for I had to be a man…but at that moment I didn't care. My mother…my sweet beautiful mother…how I loved her.

That night, Death came crashing through our door.

I was awoken to a large crash and the smell of smoke. Scrambling out of my bed, I grabbed my sword and ran out, heading first toward my mother's room. As I was running by the stairs I saw them.

Trolls.

I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, watching large those large monsters lumber across the hall of my home. Where were the servants? Where were the refugees? I saw that the trolls were not alone. Men in armor and gleaming swords were shouting orders at them. And I like a little fool stood watching them.

Then I heard the shrieking from below, and knew that the servants and refugees were trapped.

Mother.

I snapped out of my shock and sprinted down the corridor. I skidded next to the double doors to my parent's room and froze when I found the door ajar, and the room empty. Shivering in horror, I called softly, "Mother?"

Then I heard crashing footsteps behind me and a shout, "There!"

I immediately slammed the door shut, and crabbing father's favorite reading chair, and jammed it under the knob, to form some kind of barricade. Someone slammed into the door, and I scrambled back in fear.

I turned and ran the window, flinging it open and looking down. To my growing horror I saw that below me, the armored me were dragging out the servants and refugees. Then I caught the site of a white sleeping gown.

Mother. They had captured my mother!

The door shattered behind me, and three large men wearing swords, came in. I immediately drew my sword. It was a small slim practice sword, fragile looking compared to the large sword that the men held.

"It's a boy." Said one.

I raised my sword threateningly, "Stay back!"

They laughed and I could feel my face burning at their mockery.

One smirking man stepped forward, his sword naked in his hand. "Want to try at me with that toad sticker, boy?"

I knew that I had no chance with them, but still I shouted, "Stay back!"

Again they laughed, but this time the man swung his sword savagely at me. I cried out and raised my blade to block it, only to have it go flying out of my hands by the force of the blow. The man laughed and reached to grab my arm, but I twisted away and grabbed a small clock that stood by the dresser next to my parent's bed. I threw it and the man, striking him on the head.

The man howled and staggered back, clutching his bleeding head. His two friends howled in laughter.

"The boy has fire. Better be careful." One said sheathing his blade, finding me no threat to him.

The man grinned, wiping the blood from his face. "I'll remember that." He grunted, staring at me.

I crouched, waiting for a chance to flee, a chance to escape. The man lunged at me, this time managing to grab my arm. I shouted, my free hand going for his face. The man laughed and grabbing my other arm, he lifted me completely off my feet. I shouted and screamed, kicking at him, but only catching air.

One approached and checked to see if I had any more weapons, which I didn't. Then, I was tucked under his arm and carried out. The whole time I kicked and struggled, wishing only to get my hands free. But the man's hold was like iron, and I was too small and weak to break the hold.

I was carried outside, and I heard my mother shout, "Zelgadis!"

I looked up to find her being held by one man, behind them, trolls were guarding servants and refugees. I could see their terror-stricken faces; hear their weeping and prayers. I howled like an angry animal when the man holding my mother yanked at her arm painfully.

The man holding me dropped me to the ground. I landed hard on the floor, but immediately charged at the man who dared to lay a finger on my mother. But the man easily backhanded me to the ground, and I heard my mother shriek for him not to hurt me.

Then a loud voice boomed, "What is this?"

I stood up, and looked at the man approaching. He wore shining armor, and wore a leaders cloak. I shouted at him, "Tell them to let her go! She the Lady of this house and will not be treated this way!"

As the man came closer and I could see he had a thick black beard, and cruel gray eyes. "Is that so?" He said in amusement, stopping right in front of me so that I had to lift my head to look at his face. The man turned to look at mother, who had gone completely gray, and then he looked back down at me. "And what will you do, little man, if I order her killed?"

"I won't allow it!" I shouted, feeling a surge of panic. "She is the Lady of this house, and you are not allowed to touch her!"

"Am I now?" The man then suddenly struck me, and once again I was on the ground, my head ringing, and my eyes watering.

I sat up, and watched with horror filled eyes as the man approached my mother. "No!" I cried, but before I could leap to my mother's defense, I was shoved down to into the dirt by someone's boot. I cried out as whomever had me pinned put more weight onto my back, crushing me.

Once again I heard my mother cry out my name, but this time, the captain said, "Calm down, Milady. We won't hurt the boy too much if you cooperate."

"What is it? What do you want?" Mother asked desperately. My heart slowly began to shatter at hearing the desperation in her voice. Such a beautiful soft voice my mother had. "Please, leave my son alone. He is only a child!"

I growled savagely and tried to lift myself, but the boot continued to crush me to the ground.

A shadow loomed, and I found a boot shoved under my chin, forcing me to raise my head. The captain stared down at me as I glared fire at him. The Captain spoke then, his cruel eyes never leaving mine. "We are the followers of the monster Quexton, and he demands that for every village or city that we take, a member of the leading house must be sacrificed to insure further success in our campaign."

I shivered under the man's cruel eyes, trying to turn away, but the boot on my back, and the captain's boot under my chin stopped me. My mother moaned, and started to weep. And I shouted, "You have no honor! What kind of man are you?! Let me up!"

The Captain laughed and said, "I was thinking that your young spirited son's blood would appease our lord…but it is your choice, Milady Greywvers. It is either you or your son. which will it be?"

Mother's words suddenly rang loudly in my head, "And know that I would die protecting you, my little one."

"No! Mother!" I cried, but my mother's voice rang out clearly over my cries, "Quiet Zelgadis. I am you're mother and you will obey me and concede to what I decide. I will be the sacrifice, sir, and you will let my son and all these innocent people go free."

"Mother…no…" I whimpered, my eyes filling with tears of rage and anguish. The captain pulled his boot away, and my head fell down. I lay there for a moment then looked up at her. The man holding her now had both her arms pinned behind her back, yet she stood straight, her head held up high, and her eyes burning with courage. I reached for her, I stretched my arm toward her and called as my voice chocked with tears and fear, "MOTHER!!!"

Then she looked at me as the Captain came to stand before her, a sacrificial knife in his hand. Mother's eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at me, and she said to me, "Be brave, my Zelgadis. Be strong in heart and you will vanquish anything that is set before you."

I screamed when the captain lifted the knife and slit her throat.

Can one describe the feeling of seeing their own mother sacrificed like some animal? Can one describe the pain, the fear? I don't know how I survived seeing that, for the pain I felt in my heart was shattering. My mother…my sweet beautiful mother who loved to tease my father about his beard, and loved walking outside in the gardens during the day and reading by the fireplace with her son at night. A woman who had never hurt anyone was murdered to appease some monster.

And all for nothing.

The Captain did not free the people. He ordered their deaths. I watched as the trolls tore them apart, as the men took the woman and killed them once their sadistic pleasures had been sated. The dark sky shone red with smoke, and the ground was drenched with the blood of the innocents killed. Why kill them? The only soldiers there were wounded. The rest were just old men, women and children. Yes…even the tiniest of babies was slaughtered.

What happened to me? The Captain took me as his personal slave. I was forced to do everything the bastard ordered. I had to clothe him, clean his horse, shine his armor, and even feed him. He would laugh at me whenever I turned red with fury. I must admit I was a pampered boy, but never spoiled. I had to clean my room and keep my things neat, but never did I have to wait on someone…especially my mother's murderer.

He and his army took over the city, the Captain turning my home into his headquarters. My parent's room became his bedchamber, and my Father's study was his war room. The decorations, the curtains, and paintings were burnt, as well as the lovely books in the library. Some people of the city were spared like me, only to be made slaves. Other slaves soon arrived and were put to work, serving the soldiers and Trolls. My city, my home had become Hell.

For nearly a month I slaved for my mother's murderer. Nearly five times I was whipped for loosing my temper and lashing out at the Captain. I remember one time he was meeting with some of his men in the war room. He ordered me to serve his wine, but once I started to pour the red liquid into his cup he knocked it away, sending it crashing into the wall. I had learned early on that the man had a violet temper, and used my body to vent it on, beating me within an inch of my life. I cowered as he stood over me, but he was smiling evilly. "You look thirsty, son."

The first time he had called me that I yelled at him, swearing that my Father would return and kill him. He beat me after and still continued to call me that. He constantly told me that my father was dead, and that he would call me what he liked. I hated it…I preferred the beatings than hearing him calling me his son.

I immediately shook my head. Actually, I was thirsty, but I knew that whatever he had planned was not going to be pleasant.

"No?" He barked. "I wasn't asking you! I said that you look thirsty!" he yanked the pitcher out of my hand and poured its contents onto the floor. I could here his comrades snickering. "Drink. Lap it up like the ungrateful dog you are!"

I gaped up at him. Then I shook my head and said, "No." It was a pitiful no, but still I meant it.

"You need to train him more!" One man laughed as the Captain grabbed me by my hair and yanked me down.

"Drink!" He shouted, and shoved my head to the wet dirty floor. I cried out as he knocked my head on the floor savagely when I refused again. Then he pulled me up and yanked me to one man who stood, staring at us in amusement. "See this man? You know what he does! You want me to hand you over to him?"

My whole body shivered when I recognized him. I knew what he was! He didn't take any girls to his rooms…he took young boys. I knew exactly what he'd do to me. "No! Please no!" I cried, trying to put some distance between the man and me.

The man looked up at the Captain, "He is pretty."

"I'll drink! I'll drink it all!" I cried, looking up at the Captain, praying that I hadn't pushed it too much…praying that I wouldn't become some toy to some sadistic pervert.

The Captain grinned, and pushed me back to the wet floor. Obediently I went to my knees and started to lick at the wet stones. My tears joined the wine as the men all hooted and cheered on, yelling that I had missed a spot, or that I could drink more. Some even came over and dumped their wine over me, and the Captain forced me to also lick it all.

Once done, I was dragged into a closet and locked in there for two days. When I was let out I was beaten then set back to work.

Then, my father came for me.

I had been once again locked in a closet for not having the Captain's cloak ready for him when he needed it. I had been dozing when the whole building shook and I heard yelling outside. I curled into myself, fearing that somehow the Captain would come and beat me, but instead I heard someone yell, "Zelgadis!"

My head snapped up and I crawled to the door and listened again, recognizing the sound of swords clashing. "Zelgadis!"

Again! This time closer and I recognized the voice.

"FATHER!!!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, banging my thin skeletal fists against the door. "FATHER!" I yelled and yelled, banging with all my might.

Then right outside the door came his voice, "Zelgadis?"

I wept as an ax shattered the door and I was engulfed into my father's strong arms. I clung to him and wept, and when I looked up, he too shed tears that slit into his ragged beard

.

He was haggard, and injured, but still he clutched my hand, and led me out of the closet. "We must run, my son. We are outnumbered!"

We ran, only to have the Captain's men come in our way. I had to step back as father dealt with them with his sword. Then we continued to run out, making it outside to what used to be the front yard. Then the Captain appeared in front of us, armed. Father snarled at the man and attacked. Their two swords met with a loud clash, sparks flashing in between them.

I stood watching as father slashed the Captain's shoulder, only to get his arm cut. I noticed that Father was weak and worn out, his attacks and blocks slow and clumsy. A wave of dread hit me, and I knew that my father was not going to win this fight. My father was going to loose.

My dreaded prediction was correct as father stumbled and the Captain drove his sword into my Father's chest. Father screamed, and fell face foreword, a pool of crimson spreading beneath him. I stood there, watching in mute horror as the Captain laughed and spat onto the carcass. He lumbered up to and brandished the bloody sword before me. He ran a finger across it then licked his finger, savoring the taste of my father's blood.

"What now, son? You're father lies now dead before you. What have you to say?" He asked, almost kindly.

If I could have said anything, I would have. But instead I fell into unconsciousness, and never did I want to wake up again.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up it was night, and I was tied to some sort of pole outside. Something was hanging from a pole across of me, and when my bleary eyes focused I barely recognized my father's body. They had gauged out his eyes, and ripped the contents of his stomach out; I could see his intestines hanging.

I screamed and once again lost consciousness.

When I awoke again, the body was still there, but this time the Captain was standing before me.

Kill me, I silently begged him. Just kill me.

The Captain then said, his voice oddly nervous. "I received a message today concerning you, boy."

I looked at him in confusion.

The Captain smacked me across the face and snarled, "I don't care who it is! I won't be giving you up, understand!" When I did not answer he hit be again. "You are MY slave! I have claim over you! You are mine! I choose what to do with you, and no one has the right to say anything." He then grinned and pulled out a dagger.

I recognized it as the dagger that was used to kill my mother.

"I have the right to kill you if I will!" He leered. He brought the dagger and touched the tip to my nose. "Well, son, what have you to say?"

I spat in his face.

He howled in anger, and I turned my head away and shut my eyes. I wanted him to kill me, I wanted it to all end. And if I were going to die, I would not die looking into his face.

Then a soft voice said, "Stop."

My eyes snapped open and I looked over the Captain's shoulder to see a tall man in red robes and holding a staff. The Captain whirled around and for the first time I saw him turn ashen. "R…Rezo..!" He stammered, dropping the dagger.

The man, Rezo, turned closed eyes to the Captain. "I said that I would be coming to take the boy. I did not say I was coming to take a corpse."

"He…he is my slave! I will not hand him over to you, priest!" Shouted the Captain.

The man's almost porcelain face frowned slightly, and his mouth tightened. "I do not remember ever giving you a choice, sir. The child is mine, and you will hand him over, now."

What was this? I wondered. Was I going to be handed around like some kind of thing? Who was this Rezo? Why did he want me?

Rezo then said darkly, "You have already killed my son and granddaughter. If you do not hand over the child I will seek my revenge on you."

The man's eye's widened as did mine. "You're…you…" The Captain looked at me as if I was a monster, "He's…."

"The last of my kin. You will release him."

None of this made any sense to me. Son? Granddaughter? What was all this about? Who was this man who had not yet opened his eyes?

The Captain suddenly snarled and picked up the dagger, raising it over his head to stab down at me, as I stood helpless, tied to the pole.

"Aqua Freeze."

Suddenly ice shot up from the ground, and the Captain was incased in ice, the dagger still held over his head, ready to kill me. Rezo walked calmly up to the iced man and simply gave it a push; the ice fell over and shattered, as did the Captain with it.

Rezo smiled down at me and touched the ropes that bound me. "Do not worry. He will no longer hurt you." The roped then dropped, yet I did not move, staring up at him in awe. Rezo reached and touched my face and said, "I can sense that you look like you're mother…with some of your father…your hair and eyes, yes?"

I felt my eyes fill with tears at the mention of my parents. "Who are you?" I asked softly, my voice trembling with tears and shock.

The man knelt down so that his face was now across mine, and I gasped when I saw that he was blind. "I am Rezo, the Red Priest. Have you heard of me?"

I shook my head.

Rezo smiled slightly, "I guess so. You see, child, I am both your grandfather and great-grandfather. I fathered your father with one woman, then years later your mother with another."

My eyes went wide as saucers, and tears slid down my dirty cheeks. "But…"

"They did not know until after you were born. I came to them, and told them the truth, and they hated me for it." Said Rezo.

"That's impossible!" I sobbed. "You…your…young!"

Rezo reached and stroked my hair, "My magic preserves me. I have seen more than a hundred years. Do you believe me?"

I sobbed harder, for I knew he was telling the truth. His hair was the same color of mine, and he had father's narrow face and height, and the white skin, large eyes with long lashes as mothers…as me…

I managed to nod.

Rezo stood then, and out of his large cloak he pulled out a smaller one for me, and placed it over shoulders. Numbly I tied the strings, and cuddled into its warmth. "Come Zelgadis. No one will hurt you any more. I will protect you. Come."

When he turned around, I hastily reached and clung to his cloak, my knuckles white with desperation. I feared that all this was just a dream, which my savior would simply disappear like a puff of smoke. He did not mind, for he smiled and placed a comforting hand on my head. "You're fathers men are not far. We will meet with them, and if they want they may come."

So I walked with him away from my city…what used to be my home. Later I discovered that Rezo had placed a permanent sleeping spell on all of the Captain's men and trolls. So when the innocent people woke up, they found their Masters asleep. I believe they burned the bodies and the city with them. There were too many memories there; the people had suffered like me, and some even more.

When I walked with Rezo, I silently said good-bye to whatever was back there. Thirteen years of happy childhood, with tragic parents who loved me and loved each other. I knew then that things would never be the same, and that even with Rezo I would never be as happy as I was before. I had already been scarred, and I wept inside. That happy weak child was gone; probably he died when his father was stabbed. That child was not forgotten though, his soul still lived in me, he was a happy memory that would help me through nights to come as I recuperated. I said good-bye to that child, for I would not stand it any longer…

I had to be strong…

I was weak, and my mother and father were killed…

So, clutching Rezo's cloak, walking by him I silently vowed that I would be strong.

I had to be strong…

Strong…

Strong…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's notes: Thus ends the first part of Zelgadis's life! Tragic huh? I know I'm evil, but when I see Zelgadis, I KNOW for certain that his parents were dead, and that they did not die of natural causes. Why else would he want to be strong so much? Something must have happened to make him wish for it and to accept magical power from Rezo. Two things: Trust, and Want. He trusted Rezo to help him, and he really REALLY wanted it bad. Ok! Let me get started on the next part! I think it will go through Zel's life with Rezo till his fateful change and his meeting with Lina, Gouarry, Amelia, and Xellos. Though I am still not sure. But defiantly it will trace the growing relationship between Zelgadis and Rezo and the destruction of it leading to Rezo's death. Wish me luck and new fingers!

Rue Sorrows

P.S. For those who hate this fic so far…check out my name: Rue. I'm not called that for nothing! Hehe…


	2. part two

NOTES: Sorry about the extremely long delay, I was kinda busy with my Gundam/WeiB crossover fic

NOTES: Sorry about the extremely long delay, I was kinda busy with my Gundam/WeiB crossover fic. So now here is part 2 of A Mirror's Reflection. Enjoy!

Also…I have no idea how old Zel was when he was changed into a Chimera…I don't know anyone's age. So, bear with me. I've concluded that in Slayers Lina was fifteen and Zel was seventeen, ok. So be nice! And I already know that THAT isn't the sword he was holding when he was turned, I just switched swords so it could fit the plot of this! (read and you will understand…if not check go back and watch the tape where Zel is fighting in the forest and Rezo comes to him…I think episode six). 

Phew! Now you may enjoy the story!

Plus I'm trying not to be too cliché-ish! Personally, I haven't read any Zel stories like this. (Hey! Anyone out there that has written a story about Zel's past I WANNA READ IT!!)

Ok…NOW I think I'm finished…read!

A MIRROR'S REFLECTION

PART II

__

"Zel…?"

It had been an interesting few months traveling by myself since Lina defeated Fibrizo…or to be exact, The Lord of Nightmares defeated Fibrizo. But my mind doesn't go there; it goes way back before that time.

Back when I started living with Rezo.

Out of all the men who worked for my father, only Zolf and Rodimus chose to stay with me, and return with Rezo. The rest went on their way, where I don't know. Both older men were horrified at the treatment that the raiders had inflicted on me, and were grief-stricken at the news of my father's murder. Both said that they had sworn to serve my father till death. Now they swore to serve me.

I was their young Master Greywvers.

I was Master Zelgadis, master of the now burned and destroyed Greywvers estate.

Still the same...master of nothing.

Rezo lived in a lone fortress not too far from Sairaag. It was old and seemed to be about to fall apart. It frightened me when I first saw it, but Rezo gently told me that appearances could be deceiving. 

Ironic how true his words rang.

It ended up that Rezo did not live alone. He had a young women staying with him, her name was Heiress, and I thought she was beautiful. She spent almost all her time dotting of Rezo, serving him and aiding him in his research, which I soon found out to be a cure for his eyes.

As for me, I was given a nice small room, and lessons from Rezo. At first he wanted me to learn magic, but after many failed attempts he decided to let it drop to my relief. Instead of magic he taught me some more science and geography. It was all quite interesting and I enjoyed the time spent with my savior, yet for some reason I was never at ease with him. 

When I wasn't studying I was sparring with Rodimus, continuing in my crusade to become stronger. 

I did not get far.

I remember one hot summer day; Rezo approached me while I was cleaning my sword blade after a bout with Rodimus. The tall Red Priest looked serious and even disturbed. I remember being confused, for other than the times he was teaching me, he was locked away in his laboratory with Heiress. They hardly ever saw each other anytime after.

"Grandfather?"

"Zelgadis," Whispered Rezo in his soft voice. "This is not healthy."

"What isn't?" I was totally caught off guard by that statement. 

"You throw yourself into things without hesitation. You are constantly doing something. I have not seen you idle at all since you came to stay."

I looked away from him. "I just don't like being idle."

Rezo shook his blind head. "No. Not that. You are running away."

I leapt to my feet suddenly, letting my sword clatter to the floor, ignoring the lessons Rodimus had drilled into me about letting the sword touch the ground. "How dare you accuse me of being a coward!" I yelled angrily. "I never run away from anything!"

If Rezo was surprised by my outburst, he did not show it, though Heiress who had been passing by did.

"Zelgadis! How dare you speak to your elder that way!"

She didn't seem so beautiful to me anymore.

Rezo raised his hand, demanding silence. "It is alright, my dear. Go on and let me talk to Zelgadis privately."

The young woman hesitated and left, giving me a slight heated look. 

At that moment she seemed to me like a troll.

"Zelgadis," Said Rezo. "I did not mean that you are a coward."

I swallowed hard at my anger and resentment. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? I had not time for his lectures. 

"You have not given yourself proper time to grieve for your parents. And you focus almost all your thoughts on the sword, and not on other things."

"Like what?" I asked darkly, not really wanting to know. 

"Magic."

I gave an exasperated laugh, "Grandfather, you already know that I have hardly any magic capabilities."

"Wrong." Said Rezo, ever patient. "You are quite capable of becoming a powerful sorcerer, yet for some reason you hold yourself back and believe that you are incapable."

I blinked at him, not understanding.

Rezo sighed. "I don't want you to touch a blade for a month, Zelgadis. You will entertain yourself with other things. Go riding with Rodimus, join Heiress and I in the library, or even take your men with you to Sairaag and spend some days at the markets."

I started to quiver with rage. "You have no right to do that. I have to become stronger, and grieving and relaxing isn't going to help me accomplish that!" I spat out at him.

Rezo face became sad, almost sorrowful. He reached out and placed his hand on my head as I continued to shake and try to control the burning within. "Such rage, child. You must quench it or it will consume you. Grieve for your parents and rest."

He withdrew and let me alone, his staff ringing as he left.

Apparently Zolf and Rodimus agreed with Rezo whole-heartedly. Before I knew it I was on a wagon to Sairaag pouting like never before to the older men's amusement. It was for my own good they said, and was nearly clouted by Rodimus when I asked if I could bring my sword.

Rest and relaxation…

Now I laugh at the though of it, but back then I did rest and relax as I was supposed to even though I never admitted it to anyone. I was a proud thirteen-year-old youth who was not about to admit to any adult that they were right.

Fourteen…

It was around that time that I noticed changes in Rezo. 

The first time I noticed it was when I noticed him looking at me oddly. I had been reading in the library while he sat down on going over a spell book of some sort…except his eyes kept on leaving the volume to me. When I tired of this I asked him what was wrong. 

Rezo looked slightly guilty and said that it was not important.

After that he started to avoid me, and even told Heiress to tell me to stay clear of his laboratory. He even started encouraging me to go out more with Rodimus and Zolf.

Then Rezo started socializing with creatures…among them a werewolf named Dilgear. Zolf and Rodimus did not approve and told me to stay clear of them. I obeyed without complaint for once…for already I had caused Dilgear to threaten to devour my 'scrawny and meatless body'. 

I confronted Rezo about it when things started getting out of control. Trolls, Berserkers, Fishmen and other creatures were swarming all over the fortress. It brought back too many memories of my home…my house…my parents. I went to Rezo and asked him what was going on.

"They are here to help me, Zelgadis." He answered me.

"Help you?" I nearly screamed in disbelief. "How can a fishmen and Trolls help you? Grandfather this is madness!"

"No. Not madness. There is a cure for my eyes, and they will help me." Was his calm reply.

I tried going to Heiress but she brushed me away, saying that Master Rezo knew what he was doing

My fourteenth year basically drifted by like that. 

And still I felt like a failure. 

Don't get me wrong, I did improve, but the sword was always heavy, I was always short of breath, my attacks and defenses were never perfect.

I thought of myself as a failure.

I thought I was surrounded by fools.

Rezo with his obsession…

Heiress with her blind devotion…

Rodimus and Zolf with their constant loyalty to me.

I was sick of it all. I wanted something to happen…something…anything…

But for a whole year I wasted myself in trying to be stronger…trying to improve…and hating myself and everyone around me. 

For a whole year I was left alone to wallow, no one to bother me or tell me what to do. For a whole year I was free…the last year to be free.

When I turned fifteen a familiar nightmarish ghost appeared.

War.

Once again an army serving the non-existing monster Quexton was rampaging through the lands near Sairaag. Sairaag was already calling for its youths to join and fight against those who would attack their homes.

Rezo had left two weeks before on a trip with Heiress, instructing me not to get into trouble. Of course when I heard of the recruiting in Sairaag I dismissed what Rezo had told me, snuck out of the fortress at the dead of night, and headed for Sairaag like a little hero, clutching my sword to my chest and imaging my triumph as I aided in defeating this menace and finally getting revenge for my parents and for myself.

My trip on foot was uneventful, though I was dreadfully worn out by the time I reached the city. It took a whole day on horse to reach Sairaag. I had reached it on foot in a day and a night. I was prepared to be a man…I was prepared to fight.

I did not stop to rest at an inn; I went immediately to the dais where a grizzly looking soldier sat behind a table, writing down names of the young men that formed a long line. 

It was when I saw this line I realized that I had made a mistake.

I was a runt. A thin, small runt. Sure I had grown in the last two years, but I remained looking like the same abused child that had been pulled out of the closet by his dead father. 

Youths that were my age stood a head taller than I and were much wider with muscles to proof it. Their faces already sported facial hair, their voices loud and deep and maturing. I remained hairless like a girl, and even though my voice had deepened, it remained soft.

I was immediately the center of their attention. A child amongst men.

A boy, no older than I came over and said, "Are you looking for someone."

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, and knew I was giving him a dirty look when I said tartly, "No. I am here to enlist."

I heard snickering here and there, and the boy before me cracked a smile. "Umm…how old are you."

"Fifteen." I said defensively and nearly attacked the boy as he chuckled. "I am!"

Before the boy could say anything, I was shoved into the front of the line and found myself staring at a pair of black cold eyes. 

"What is this?" It was the soldier, looking non too pleased. "What's a waif like you doing out here?"

Standing straight and proud, I said, "My name is Zelgadis Greywvers, age fifteen, and I am here to enlist, sir."

The man gave me a disgusted look before calling over his shoulder, "Jeeves! Escort this pup back home! I have no time to deal with runaway children trying to end their lives!"

I gaped at the man in shock, then glared in anger as Jeeves, a thin tall soldier, came and reached for my arm. Jerking back I drew my blade and shouted challengingly. "I am no child! My name is Zelgadis and I can best any of you here!"

With an exasperated groan, Jeeves drew his sword and said softly to me, "I don't want to humiliate you, child, but you have to go home."

"I am a man!" I shouted and charged at him, intending to frighten him and show off the skills I had acquired from Rodimus. Jeeves merely sighed and side stepped my attack, sending me sprawling on my stomach, my sword flying out of my grasp. I lay there, in stunned mortification. 

How? After all these years of training and working…after all my hard work…how could I have been beaten without lifting him sword his sword in defense. All around me I could hear the men and boys laughing…all laughing at me…laughing at my weakness.

Jeeves helped to my feet, asking me if I was hurt. I pulled away from him and his concern. Slowly, ignoring the snickering and whispers, I bent over and picked up my sword, and turned to Jeeves, raising it so the point was aimed at him. 

"I am a man." I said, my voice hoarse from the sheer fury and humiliation that I felt burning at my chest and throat.

Jeeves now looked put out with me. Leaning against his sword he asked, "Fine then. You have to know that you look quite young, so tell me, where are your parents?"

I stared hard at the man, and then looked at the cold-eyed soldier sitting at the table, staring at us. I said loudly, "My parents are dead. They were killed two years ago by Quexton's army."

"Then who are you staying with?" Jeeves asked me.

"A relative."

"Does this relative know that you are here?"

Swallowing hard and let my sword drop so that it's point was on the ground. I looked away from Jeeves, now seeing how truly stupid I had been. "He…he isn't here. He is on a trip and doesn't know anything."

The soldier on the table stood and sauntered over to me. I looked up at him, knowing that this had all been a mistake. I should have waited for Rezo to return and discussed this with him. I should have waited till I was sure that I could best anyone…how could I have been so stupid?!

The man reached down and grabbed and yanked the sword out of my grasp and looked at the blade. "Who gave you this?" He demanded in a rumbling voice.

I blinked up at him, not knowing whether to be outraged at him taking my sword, or feeling a little relief at the fact he hadn't kicked my ass for disrupting everything.

"My…my sword instructor." I said softly.

The man sneered and suddenly brought down the sword on the ground, hard. They was a loud tearing sound that made me jump as I watched in horror the blade snapped. The soldier dropped the part he was holding on the ground as if it were a piece of junk and told me, "A sword is as strong as its owner."

Laughter. They were laughing at me again.

Weak. 

I was so weak.

Feeling tears coming unbidden to my eyes I turned and fled like a coward. I fled from the laughter…I fled from my failure. Their mocking rang in my ears, pieced my soul, and shattered my heart. That soldier had might as well have snapped me in two…it would have been so much less painful.

Weak…so damn weak.

I thought I had disappointed my parents. Here I was fifteen and still unable to join an army to avenge my parents death. 

I thought I was a pitiful weak stupid insect.

I was a child…a pup…a baby.

Weak.

I did not return home. I stayed in the forests in between the fortress and Sairaag. For nearly a week I roamed like some kind of wraith, only eating berries and drinking from the streams that I came across. I didn't care if Rodimus and Zolf were worried about me. I didn't care if Rezo returned to find me missing. I didn't care if I died. My life seemed to me meaningless.

I wanted to be strong and I failed.

Then it started to rain, and like a small pathetic animal I found myself a small cave only big enough for me to curl up in it. I slept there and dreamt of my parents alive and proud. Strong father…beautiful mother.

When I woke up I promptly lost the contents of my stomach (what was in there that is). My parents…they were siblings…brother and sister…what kind of creature was I?! The weak and disgusting spawn of a…a couple…brother and sister…_brother and sister…_

And I loved them…my parents…my sweet parents…I wanted to avenge their deaths…but like their coupling I was that…disgusting…unwanted…

I was weak but I wanted to be strong.

Finally, the tears came, and there was no stopping. I sat there, sick, starving and alone and wept for my poor misguided parents whom had both died for me…died for their poor weak son who even though now he was a man he still could not avenge them. I wept for my failure in swordsmanship, my failure in strength.

Two years…two whole years I had not shed a tear since the day I walked away from Rezo from my hometown. Two years of built up rage, sorrow, and pain that was long over due came out I a screamed into the clear blue sky, sending birds flying into the sky.

I stumbled out of the cramped cave and ran. I ran away from the memories, from my self-loathing. I charged into bushes, ran into trees, weeping. My cape was in shreds, somehow I had lost my boots, and my arms and feet were cut and bleeding. 

Finally, in my mad flight I came to a river and charged straight into it. I beat at the cool liquid, cursing it, cursing my parents, cursing Rezo, cursing myself. Finally my rage died down and I stood there, drenched and exhausted. 

Sniffling and feeling like a childish fool I slowly started to climb out when something cut into my bare and already abused foot. Crying out in pain I looked down, and cursed when I saw my blood dirtying the water, but then my eyes saw it. 

A sword.

Ignoring my injury I pulled it out of its liquidly grave and gazed in wonder at the beauty that I held in my hands, my tears drying on my cold cheeks. The blade itself shone deadly and sharp, its metal shining like pure silver with not a scratch on it. Its pummel and guard was gold and on the end of the pummel a red ruby stone sat glimmering at me. The sword was surprisingly light in my tired and scratched hands. Standing waist-deep in the river I swung the sword and listen to the sound of it cleaving the air with a deadly finality, whispering death to anything that stood in its way.

In a daze I climbed out of the water, and stood still looking at it. 

Beautiful…

But was it strong?

Removing my now destroyed cape, I used it to wrap my arms and legs, leaving my feet bear so that I wouldn't slide on the forest floor. I looked ridiculous, but as I picked up the sword and swung it with all my might at a tree I felt like a warrior.

The sword met resistance, then cleaved its way right through the trunk of the tree. In my shock, I barely had enough sense to dodge the falling lumber. The tree groaned and fell, sending a large cloud of dust into the air. I looked at it with wide eyes and then looked at the blade…not a scratch.

"A sword is as strong as its owner." 

With a barking laugh I launched myself into a full-blown exercise that usually had me swatting in the middle of it. The sword whispered to me, and I attacked, defended, thrust, disarmed…I danced the dance of a swordsman, I tasted the first taste of triumph, and I sang the song of the strong.

I wanted to be strong!

Strong!

STRONG!

I ran through the forest, attacking imaginary enemies, wondering how I would gloat once I reached Sairaag with this sword and showed Jeeves and his captain exactly what I can do. 

But I stopped. The last time I thought I was ready I was dead wrong. I wouldn't make the same mistake again. I would wait and return home and train some more with Rodimus, then I would try again and have my revenge.

With that in mind I once again started to attack the air, chanting within my heart and soul:

I want to be strong!

Strong!

STRONG!

With a battle cry I dug my blade into the trunk of a fallen tree and took a few breaths to calm myself. 

Then I heard the familiar dreaded chimes that till know haunt my dreams. Looking up, I was surprised to find Rezo standing in front of me, almost towering over my slighter frame. I looked at him, wondering how in the world had he found me, and why was he not yelling at me for disappearing the way I had?

And why did I suddenly fear my grandfather?

"You wish to be strong, Zelgadis?"

I stared at him in shock. Of course I wanted to be strong! For almost two years I've been living with him, and _now_ it occurs to him that that was my goal.

I was a fool…

"Help me find the Philosopher's Stone, and I will grant you power beyond imagination."

Power? Strength came with power. Rezo was knew magic, maybe he could help me! I had never thought of asking him for help. Could he know a spell that would make me stronger? A spell to give me the power to avenge my parents…power to finally not be a pitiful failure! 

All I had to do was help him find a little stone that he probably misplaced and that Heiress couldn't find. 

If only I hade known…

Bringing his priest staff so that it was right in front of my nose, Rezo said, "You will be completely transformed."

I wanted to change! I wanted to be stronger! I wanted everything! 

But as I looked up at my grandfather I again felt this strange fear…a strange feeling that I should be fleeing. I felt as if he was actually _seeing_ me, that he could see me standing, sweating and nervous before him.

I hesitated, then gave a small nod. This was my grandfather, the man that had saved me, the man that had been anything but kind to me. He was my only family…

He was all I had…

I trusted him…and he betrayed me.

I don't know how I can describe the flashing pain that I felt. I remember looking at him then suddenly a white light blinded me, and I covered my eyes and screamed as suddenly I felt like a hundred swords were piercing me.

Mercifully I lost consciousness.

I don't think I dreamed…and if I did I don't know what about. Do babies dream when they are in their mother's wombs? I guess that's the way I can describe my transformation. Being reborn.

When I woke up I found myself back in my room at the fortress, both Zolf and Rodimus were sitting at my desk next to my bed. Both looked pale, both looked terrified. I understood why as I sat up and the bed sheets fell to my waist giving me full view of my bare chest.

I screamed.

No longer was my skin porcelain white, but a blue with ugly hard gray stones scattered around my skin. I clawed at them frantically and found that though I could still feel the same, my skin was as hard and as cold as a rock.

Both Rodimus and Zolf somehow managed to calm me down. Zolf obeyed me timidly when I asked for a mirror, and Rodimus silently cleaned up its remains when I threw it against the wall.

I was a monster.

Rezo…my grandfather had turned me into a monster.

I lay in bed wishing, hoping, and praying that this was all a dream, but it wasn't. So I got up and dressed, ignoring how Rodimus and Zolf begged me to rest. I stormed out of my room and charged down the hall, the two faithful me following me. 

I yelled for Rezo but only Dilgear appeared. He looked at me without recognition.

"So now we have a Golem, huh?"

Rodimus stepped in front of me and said, "This is Master Zelgadis!"

"Zelgadis?!" gaped the wolf man. He then swallowed hard and stepped away from me. 

I walked by him and headed for the laboratory even though I knew Rezo did not want me there. I came to the door and I shouted, "GRANDFATHER!!!!"

I stood, breathing hard, waiting. And the door opened, and there stood Rezo.

"Zelgadis, I see that you are well." He said as if I had just come down for breakfast.

I sputtered for a moment then yelled, "Look at me! What have you done?!"

"Why, I gave you power." He said a matter of factly.

Zolf and Rodimus came forward, but I waved them to leave me. Both were reluctant, but in the end they listened to their Master Zelgadis.

"This isn't what I wanted!" I said, near tears, confused, frightened, in agony at the way Rezo was approaching this whole situation.

"I asked you if you wanted power and you are now powerful."

"What am I?" I cried. "I am made of stone! I'm a monster!"

"No. Not a monster. A chimera."

"A what?!"

"You are now made up of demon, golem, and human, Zelgadis. You are strong, and you will help me."

I stared at him and inside I felt something snap. I stepped away from him and hissed, "Never. I will never help you!"

"Oh?"

"Damn you! Change me back!" I shouted and charged, or attempted to. My body refused to move.

Rezo chuckled, "Silly. Zelgadis, I created your body. I am its master…your master. Everything you do, everywhere I go, I will now."

I struggled against invisible bonds…bonds that were my own limbs, and started to weep. I remember feeling bitterly surprised that I was capable of shedding tears. "Why?" I wept. "Why? Why? WHY?!"

Rezo came to stand before me. Like he did when I was thirteen and weeping for my father, he wiped the tears from my stone cheeks and said almost tenderly, "My dear Zelgadis, with this body comes magical and physical power. It would have been impossible for you to help me as you were. Now with this body, you will get the strength you desired, and you will help me find the Philosopher's Stone."

After that I was let go, and the very next day, with my new sword with the red ruby I started to train, and within a week I bested Rodimus. Then Rezo came and gave me Shamanist spell books and told me to study. I studied and I excelled and became a master Shamanist, capable of casting the strongest Shamanist spells: The Ra Tilt.

These achievements did not matter to me at all by then. Sure I gained the strength and power that I craved, but at what cost.

Before, whenever I looked into a mirror, I hated myself because I was weak. When I was changed, I couldn't even look at a mirror without going into a rage. I didn't hate myself, I wanted to kill myself and skin the stones off of me.

When I was sixteen, Rezo gave me control of group of his creatures (which included Dilgear) and sent us out to find the Philosopher's Stone. Zolf and Rodimus accompanied me, doing all they could to help and make things easier for me. I conspired with them that once I got my hands on the stone, I would use its powers and kill Rezo for what he had done…for his ultimate betrayal.

A year later, I got a lead on the Philosopher's Stone and met Lina Inverse.

To be honest, I think I might have fallen in love with her at first. Her spirit and charisma enchanted me. Her moods bewildered me. 

She made me laugh for the first time almost two years.

Gouarry was like non other I had met. Chivalrous, charming, strong, brave, and the most dimwitted man I had ever come in contact with. An excellent swordsman, though I don't know who would best who if we fought. Also, Gouarry has the Sword of Light, the one blade that has the power to cut through my stone skin. I once wanted to ask Gouarry to kill me with it, but I didn't. I never give up; it's just not in me.

Together with Gouarry we fought Rezo, and I discovered that Shabirnigdo was in him the whole time. I discovered that it wasn't my grandfather that betrayed me (though at first I refused to admit it). 

I think in that first battle I lost more than I lost when I helped battle Zanafar, Gaav, and Fibrizo…I lost Zolf and Rodimus. They stayed by me from the beginning, choosing to keep a vow to my father. 

They were not my servants…they were my friends.

Now, when I think about it I know that I cannot fully blame Rezo for what happened to me. Now, I guess I can forgive him in a way…almost. Rezo was the man who came to me as I was tied to a stake staring at the mutilated corpse of my father, the man who wrapped a warm cloak over my bare shoulders and guided me away and gave me a place to stay. That man…that Rezo was my grandfather.

The next time I met Lina and Gouarry, they had Amelia with them.

Small, young, cute…well endowed (ahem) Princess Amelia.

She annoyed me from the start, and she thought I was a monster.

I wanted to throw her out a window when she preached about justice, and I wanted to protect her whenever I heard her scream. Odd, I never felt a need to protect Lina (hey I threw her into a tree!), but Amelia I would always wrap my arm around her small waist and cover her body with my stone one, shielding her. Amelia I would always look to when we were attacked. Amelia I would know for sure she had my back, and I had hers.

Not that I'm saying I love her…I think…maybe…I don't know! All I know is that when I that the two times I thought she was dead (when we fought Gaav, and he hit her from behind, and when Fibrizo played God with those little balls) I felt my heart freeze, and once again I was thirteen years old, helpless and terrified.

She couldn't die! Not Amelia…never Amelia.

Do I love her?

I don't know. Does it matter? I am a freak, and ugly…even though Amelia doesn't mind that…actually she thinks I look cool. 

Heh…it works well for my cold heartless Shamanist Swordsman reputation that I enjoyed making for myself.

There is also the fact the she is a _Princess_, and the fact that her father is the scariest man I have ever met. Once, I was a noble's son. My father governed land, but when he died so did my claim to it.

Besides, try imagining a stone King! 

I would laugh till I cried if I could…and never stop. 

Maybe if I had a cure…if I was back to being human I would try something with her…but I am not.

There is one other significant person that I met. 

Xellos. A monster disguised as a priest. The man is so infuriating, so annoying, and so damn slippery that he caused me to collapse. That's right, I, Zelgadis Greywvers, Mister Cold and Heartless Shamanist Swordsman, collapsed.

Damn that monster.

Even now I still don't know if that manuscript of the Clair Bible that Xellos destroyed had my cure in it. 

I never trusted the guy from the beginning, even before we discovered that he was a monster. He was too mysterious, he knew too much, and nobody who could infuriate Lina could be just anybody! I sensed that there was something sinister and dark about him. That something drew me to him, making me want to know his secrets, his motives, anything!

I didn't know why before, but when we found out what he was it all made sense.

Xellos was a monster…

I was a third demon…

Both are evil and enjoyed making others suffer…enjoyed pain…enjoyed and relished in it all. My demon half was awakening at the sound of a kindred's voice and aura.

I made sure that no one noticed that I was changing…nothing physical, just emotional. I was disgusted and horrorstricken at myself, my feelings…I was a monster…

When everything was over with Gaav and Fibrizo I left the group.

Martina and Zangulous got married…

Lina and Gouarry were sorta…kinda…almost like a couple (can never be sure with those two)…

And Amelia wanted to become a bride…

So you can see why I left…right? It was too painful to stay.

Besides…I was changing…something in me was changing, and it was not good.

It was months later that Xellos appeared again.

He wanted to talk to me…

And surprisingly I listened…

TO BE CONTINUED….o.o

Next part: 

__

What does Xellos want with Zelgadis? 

Vengeance of a Chimera…

"I am a man!"

hehehehe….be patient!


	3. part three (the end)

NOTES: Ok nvcc Normal nvcc 1 1 2001-11-08T23:49:00Z 2001-11-08T23:50:00Z 14 4505 25683 NVCC-AN 214 51 31540 9.3821 

NOTES:  Ok.  Here it is.  Finally.  After Lord knows how long.  The conclusion of _A Mirror's Reflection_.  Yeah!  Come on people, cheer with me!  This is the second fic I've finished!  I've actually finished it!  Do you understand what an accomplishment this is for lil me?!  

Ok.  Here finally we come to the end of Zel's narrative.  We find out what made Zelgadis so different in the time between Next and Try, we also finally meet the non-existing Monster Quexton (Yeah, that one).  Hope you like it.

**A MIRRORS REFLECTION**

Part III 

_"Zel..?"_

Lina is still calling me, wanting to know if things have been all right with me since we parted after the fight with Fibrizzo.  I hear a hint of concern in her voice, and I find myself surprisingly feeling warm.  Though Lina acted all tough and hard, she really did care for me and her other friends.

But I am different now, and I don't know how to tell her this.  I had discovered something, and it was not pretty.  But I was still myself, I was still Zelgadis and nothing changed that.

What had occurred?  I don't think I'll ever tell Lina…or Amelia.  It was too disturbing, and they wouldn't understand.  They are not like me…they are human.  I only have a third of humanity in me.  The rest is rock and demon.

Demon.

As I have mentioned earlier before, I had made a fast exit after Fibrizzo's defeat.  I had not been long alone in my journeys, for I had lost myself.  The Clair Bible might have had the answer to my cure, but within the heat of battle, regaining my humanity was reduced to nothing in my brain.  I did not know where to start looking again.  So I drifted aimlessly, berating my spastic mind and as Lina would helpfully put it, 'be glum and depressed'.

I was also feeling the odd stirrings within me.  I had never noticed them until Fibrizzo had shown his true might to us, when I felt his Monster power.  It was a familiar feeling, but I did not want to admit it to myself.  I had not felt it from Xellos or the other Monsters, because they were not as strong as Fibrizzo.  Now Fibrizzo was pure Monster, the strongest source of evil I had ever faced…more powerful than Shabernigdo or Gaav in the way he handle us, played with our lives so that Lina would cast the Giga Slave.  It was mainly after him did I come to understand my Demon third.

Demons were related to the Monster Race. 

But I refused to believe it.  

I was alone when Xellos came to me one night while I camped in the woods.  When I saw him materialize in the shadows, I was shocked.  Lina was not around, so why did the Monster come?  It was Lina that the Monster Race had an interest in, not me.  When he approached slowly, with his ridiculous smile plaster on his pale face, I realized that something important was about to happen.  Could it be that Xellos knew for certain of a cure for my curse?

"What do you want, Xellos?"  I asked rudely.  I was in no mood for crazy Monsters, now thinking that nothing good would come out of this.  After all, Xellos was a Monster, why would a Monster want to help me?

I was dumbstruck when Xellos bowed to me.  _Xellos bowed to me.  _I sat there, staring at him over my fire, my mouth hanging open like a stupid codfish, my eyes probably wide as ever.  

"Greeting, Zelgadis.  It is wonderful to see a familiar face again."  Was his cheery reply to my rude question.  "Please, may I sit down?"

I remember thinking, _what the Hell?!  _But I waved for him to join me; after all, he hadn't done anything for me to attack him…at least not yet. 

Xellos sat and placed his staff on the floor in front of him.  He stared at me, his eyes closed as normal, and his smile still there.  "So, how have you been feeling lately, Zelgadis?"

"Fine."  I answered, wondering what the Monster up to.

There was a long silence, one in which I was determined not to be the one to break.  Thankfully, Xellos spoke, but I remember that he opened his eyes a crack when he did, totally unnerving me.  His eyes freaked me out; they reminded me of something I did not want to admit then.  Something even now I wish wasn't true.

Xellos's eyes reminded me of my own.  Cold, hard, and unfeeling.

"I have some information that might be of interest to you, Zelgadis.  Will you hear me out?"

"What are you up to?"  I growled, wishing he'd just close his eyes.  I knew that he was feeding off of my discomfort.   I wished at that moment I hadn't let him join me.

He raised his gloved hands and said, "I promise, nothing, Zelgadis.  Its just that my Mistress has noticed that you have been…well, how do I say this…restless."

I really did not like the sound of this.  For Xellos's Mistress to have _noticed_ something about me, meant that she had been _watching_ me! "What the Hell are you getting at?"  I demanded, feeling more than a little nervous.  I knew for a fact that I was no match for Xellos, if he wanted anything from me, I would be powerless to stop him.  But at least I would blow off a limb or two.

Xellos said, "You have started noticing things about yourself, things that you would prefer not to exists.  You left in such a hurry after Martina's wedding."

"So what?"

Xellos leaned forward and grinned.  It was not his Trickster grin. It was an evil grin that made my stomach turn into knots. "You thirst for blood, Zelgadis.  You thirst for suffering like every other Monster."

I felt like hurling in the damn Monster's face right then and there.  The whole concept made me sick back then.  "I am not a Monster, Xellos!" I yelled angrily.

"You are a third Demon, my confused friend.  Demons are related to Monsters.  They thirst for the same thing.  You know this, Zelgadis."

I stood, not wanting to hear his mocking voice.  But he appeared in front of me still grinning.  He was enjoying this; I knew it like I knew night and day.  I was suffering, and he was feeding off of me.  I stumbled back, trying to get my personal space back.  "What do you want?"  I growled.

"My Mistress had noticed your restlessness, Zelgadis.  So she sent me to give you a gift."

I was liking this even less.  I wanted to be anywhere but there, alone with Xellos's freakish eyes on me.  I stood though, stiff and nervous as Xellos reached into his dark cloak and withdrew a dagger.  I leapt back, now fearing that the 'gift' was my death.  It did not make any sense to me, for what would my death do? Other than making Lina very pissed, and I was sure that the Monsters did not want Lina's wrath directed on them.

But instead of attacking, Xellos thrust the dagger's handle towards me, offering it.  "Take it."  He told me cockily.

I stared at the dagger for a moment, wondering what kind of trick was Xellos playing.  But I reached over and took it, looking at it in confusion. I was about to ask Xellos what was so important about the dagger when the blood in my veins froze, causing me to shudder as I recognized the dagger.

How could I forget that dagger…

The dagger that had slit my mother's throat… 

I barely noticed that Xellos was speaking to me, "My Mistress told me that it was important that you be given this dagger.  Said that it will solve some of your problems and make you feel better.  So, does it?"

I ignored the question, instead I demanded, "Where did you get this?"  I noticed that my hand was shaking.

Xellos had closed his eyes by now, but he still grinned.  "Oh, one of the minor Monsters snatched it from some soldier in an army."

"What army?"  I growled.  I knew that Xellos knew the importance of the dagger, and that he was taking his time because he was enjoying himself at my expense…again.

"Why, an army that belongs to the Monster Quexton."

I glared at him, wanting nothing but to throttle him.  "We both know that there is no Monster Quexton."

Xellos shrugged and turned slightly. "Well, apparently there is somebody using that name again.  They used it back then, and they are using it now.  Very intriguing don't you agree?"

Beautiful mother…strong father… 

"Who?"  I hissed, looking at my hideous reflection on the blade.  "Who was responsible?"

Xellos's grin showed his white teeth.  "A little late to go for revenge?"

"Who is it?" I was shouting, but I didn't care. I could see my mother's blood dripping from the blade to the handle, drenching my hand.  I could see my father's corpse behind Xellos's mocking body, mutilated and stinking. 

"That is a secret!"

I hurled the dagger at him, which he easily dodged.  "Now now, Zelgadis."  He said.   "I would have thought you would ask where this person is."

"I bet it's a secret!"  I hissed, wondering if I could cause him any kind of pain.

But Xellos shook his head at me, "Nope.  My Mistress told me that I'm to help you get there.  You simply will have to find out who's this 'Monster Quexton' on your own."

"Why?"  I asked.  "Why would your Mistress do this?"

This time Xellos's shrug seemed genuine, "That I'm not sure about." He said almost sheepishly.  "Maybe she's just interested in the results."

I didn't like it.  Not one bit…but to get my revenge…I would do anything to have my revenge…to finally be a man and avenge my parent's death…to avenge my suffering.  I wanted this.  I had not realized it, but I wanted this Monster Quexton to suffer.  But all my searching had revealed that there was no such creature.  He had guessed that it was someone playing a sickening game, but I could find no one.  

My day had finally come.  I looked at Xellos and demanded for him to tell me the location of the army.  He laughed and told me that he was happy to oblige.  I remember feeling a little sickened at the way I had latched onto the dagger and the thought of revenge.  I wanted to see blood spilled.

I was acting and feeling like a Monster.  

I hated it, but I refused to back down.

That morning, Xellos lead me away from my camp, down east nearing the coast.  The fool babbled incessantly, what I have no clue.  Only Xellos could turn a comment like, 'the sky is clear' to something totally different.  I shut my ears to him, not paying attention to what he was saying.  I was in a way trying to get a hold of myself.  For the first time since turning into a Chimera, I could think about nothing but my parents.

I could feel my father lifting me in his strong arms.  I could smell my mother's send as I hugged.  Their gentle smiles, their love for a weak child who eventually was the reason for their deaths.  After all, it was the original plan for me to be sacrificed to appease Quexton, not my mother.  I was the reason my father had gone back to rescue me, and died trying.  If I hadn't been so weak I could have protected my mother, if I hadn't been weak I could escaped and my father would not have had to return to save me.

I knew that these were unhealthy faults, but I could not help but thinking and in some way believing them.  I was strong now, and cursed.  I knew that even if I had been strong back then I still would have been overwhelmed.  After all, I was just a boy.  But now I was a man.  I was strong, and nothing could stop me.  I had battled Rezo and his copy, I had gone head to head with Gaav, Shabernigdo, Zanaffar, and the Hellmaster.  And even though I was beaten by them, I survived, and helped in their undoing.  

No, I was no longer weak.

But at what cost?  

I had to stop in my thinking as Xellos raised his hand and went quiet.  I could hear the sounds of a lot of voices.  And far away I could see smoke.  

Xellos spoke, "I see that the army is sacking another village.  I wonder who will be the sacrifice here?"

I knew he asked this to get on my nerves.  And it worked.  Was there a young boy down there who worshipped his parents? A happy boy who wanted nothing to do but to please them?  A boy whose life was about to be shattered like mine had.

A boy who later would be unable to look at his reflection in mirror because it made him sick to see what stared back?

Trust me, I have never been one for heroics thought I have defiantly done my share traveling with Lina.  I have never knowingly involved myself in trying to save strangers from fate.  Sometimes I wonder what Amelia would have to say about that.  

But there, right there, something snapped.  I wanted to make that army down there suffer.  I could feel the cold blade that took my mother's life hanging on my side.  I wanted that blade to be drenched in blood, but this time the blood of those responsible for her death.  I wanted to kill, and I wanted to enjoy it.

I was aware of Xellos chuckling, but I ignored him.  

It was my day.  The day I will finally prove to myself my worth, and who I was.

"Ray Wing."  I spoke the words calmly and leapt away from Xellos and into the air.  I stopped and asked Xellos, "Are you coming.  I'm sure your Mistress would want a thorough report."

For a moment Xellos looked a little startled at my comment.  I felt dark pleasure at this.  I now knew what the trick was.  They wanted to toy with me.  They knew my 'restlessness' was the fact that I was becoming aware of my Demon part.  They wanted me to accept it with open arms.  They wanted me in a way to become one of them.

I accepted, but unlike them I was human…if only a third.  I had been raised human.  I had also been in a way influenced by Rezo, one of the smartest men of the age…even if he was mad.  If to get my revenge I would allow myself to succumb to the Demon within me, I accepted.  But I would always be Zelgadis.  

I was not a Monster.

What I saw at the village did not phase my heart at all.  Now that I think back on it, it was something that would have made Lina, Gouarry, and Amelia shudder.  Even I would have gotten sick, but not at that moment.  I was not Zelgadis Greywevers; I was Zelgadis, the Chimera who was heartless.  I liked that title, it appealed to me.  I understood why.

The poor villagers were nowhere in sight.  Soldiers ran around, destroying anything. Nut it was the large burning barn that caught my attention.  The barn where all the screams came from.  Screams of men, women, and children locked inside and burning to death together.

Drawing my sword, I flew to the barn, ignoring the some of the startled looks from the soldiers who stopped their destruction to stare at me.  I reached for the burning lock on the door and ripped it away.  The fire licked at my rock skin, but I felt nothing.  Only the searing flames that came from under the earth could harm my skin.  I heard shouts from behind, but simply ripped the burning door open.

Immediately, coughing and terrified villagers ran out, clutching each other.

They halted when they saw the soldiers then me.  Behind them, the barn collapsed.  Some fell to the ground weeping, staring at the place where they all could have perished.  Then a man cried out, pointing at me.  "It's the Monster Quexton!"

This started a ripple of panic from the villagers, and confusion from the soldiers who probably were still shocked at my appearance.  I smirked at the frightened villagers and told them, "Get out."

They hesitated, frightened and still not wanted to leave their village.  I raised my sword and lunged at the soldier closest to me.  I man screamed, and slid to the ground, dead.  I pointed the bloody blade at the villagers and growled, "Get out, or all of you will share these men's fates."  Now, thinking about it, I think I meant it.  Anyone getting in my way was going to die.  I was not holding back.  Nothing would hold me back.  

They left, stumbling over each other, weeping; frightened…just like the way I used to be.  I then saw a young boy looking around eleven stop walking and stare at me with large dark eyes.  I met his gaze coldly, but started when the boy smiled at me.  A man and a woman took his hands and ushered him hurriedly away.  Probably his parents.

I had succeeded.

When they were gone, the shocked soldiers started inching away from me.  Cowards, the lot of them.  They could attack unarmed men, women, and children, but they wouldn't dare attack a short, thin, yet deadly Chimera.  These men were even worse that the ones who had attacked my home.  At least those men fought off soldiers, and defeated my father in battle.

These men were merely cowards.

I was enjoyed striking fear into them.  

"I am looking for the Monster Quexton.  Would any of you gentlemen care to tell me where your Master is?"  I asked politely.  I started walking toward them, devouring their wide eyes, their sweaty faces, the fast rate of their hearts.  It was delicious, and sickening.  But I was not holding back.

"A…a…Monster!"  Cried one man.

I laughed, "Hardly.  Now, who will answer my question?  Where is Quexton?"

"The…the Master…?!"  He stammered.  I could see that he was near pissing on himself from fear.  Yes, I wanted this.  I wanted them all to fear me…to fear the monstrous man before them.  A man who would not think twice of killing them.  They deserved it.  I looked at them, trying to see if I recognized any of their ugly features.  Was one of them that man who liked pretty little boys?  Was one of the one who laughed and poured wine on me when I was forced to lab it up like a dog?  Was one of them one who helped sack my home, and murder my family??

I could not recognize any of them, and that curbed the boiling anger and hatred in me.  Now that I think about it, maybe one of them was at my town all those years ago, maybe I just couldn't remember their faces.  But in any case I chose to spare them, but took pleasure in scaring the shit out of them.  And some of them did.

I targeted one ugly big fat smelly brute of a man, and went to him to interrogate.  He whimpered, and tried to run but I held him by the scruff of his fat dirty and sweaty neck and shook him like a kitten.  "Tell me…_friend_…where is that Monster that you follow so loyally?"

"I…I don't know!"

I smirked at him, and his eyes became wide, his pupils tiny and shaking.  "I'm sure I can convince you to tell me."  I said almost kindly.  His terror was delicious to feed upon.  I could feel it like an ocean wave.  So this was what a Monster or a Demon feels when they torment others.  

"Please!  Please!  Don't hurt me!"

The man was a weeping blubber, and it was disgusting holding him.  Finally and gave him a good hard shake and said, "Stop it.  You're a man aren't you?  Simply tell me where is Quexton and I'll spare you and your comrades lives."

The man opened his mouth and shut it again.  I grew tired of the craven's stalling and lifted my hand.  "Freeze arrow."  An arrow made of complete ice appeared in my hand and I held it over the slug's nose.  "If this touches you," I told him.  "You're whole body will slowly freeze and be incased in ice.  Not a nice way to die, don't you think?"

I waved it a little closer and he broke.  "The…the Master is the camp near the woods three miles from here!  Please!  Please let me go!  He forced me to come here!  The damn Monster threatened me, so I came.  I didn't mean it!  I didn't want to burn all those people!"

Disgusting.    

"Where in the woods?"  I asked calmly.  For a moment I had the urge to destroy this craven fool.  A waste.  I knew very well he was bloated with greed and cruelty, but like most greedy and cruel men, he was a coward.  

"North."  Whispered the man.  

I sneered and threw him a good ten feet away, dispelling the urge to wipe my gloved hand against my cape.  "Go."  I told him, looking at his comrades who were inching away from me.  "I would advise you to not go to your camp.  That is my next stop."  They whimpered and gulped, all sweating and disgusting.  They ran.  Every last one of them ran, some retaining a hold on their weapons, others dropping them to the ground for fear that it would slow their escape.

Disgusting…all of them.

I stood by myself for a moment.  The barn smoking behind me barely irritated my nose, the devastation was what had my attention.  These people had been so lucky.  My home had not fared so well.  

I was about to cast the Ray Wing to leave when Xellos materialized next to me.  "Oh, not here is he?"

"Go away."  I said, not bothering to look at him.  I had more important things to deal with.

"But, you seemed to have dropped this."

He handed me the dagger that I had thrown at him.  I took it, once again seeing my mother's blood on it.  "Why do you insist on me keeping this damned thing?"  I demanded.

Xellos shrugged.  I turned away from him and dropped the dagger.  "If you're thinking that I should kill Quexton with the same dagger that killed my mother, then think again."  I told him angrily.  His presence was getting to me. 

"Oh?"  He raised a purple brow.

"_Ray Wing_!"   I flew off, not bothering to explain myself.  If I were going to kill Quexton, I would do it as a man, not as a sickening Monster who would take pleasure in making things seem like a story.  I wasn't like that.  It would be ironic to kill Quexton with that dagger.  

But no.

The trees flew by below me, and it wasn't long before I found the camp.  It was fairly small, not what I had thought.  That didn't matter.  I had to find Quexton.  I landed in the middle of the camp and found it deserted other than two burly guards who stood at the opening of a large tent, their swords drawn and eyes only on me.

"QUEXTON!"  I shouted and charged, drawing my sword.  I attacked the two with no mercy, cutting them down, and killing them down.  I wanted this now.  I wanted death.  Anything that got in my way would be killed.

Yet a small voice in my mind told me to calm down.

"QUEXTON!"  I shouted again, standing over the bodies.  "Come out now!  We have score to settle!  _COME OUT!_"

I stood, and waited, shivering with anticipation.  Yes, now it was time for Quexton to suffer as I have suffered.  He would die a slow painful death, and I would make sure that he regretted the day he dared to order his armies to destroy my home, and to order a sacrifice of a member of the leading home.  He would pay.

When he did not come out I stepped forward and yanked the flaps of the tent open and entered.  I would make him suffer for making me come out, the craven.

But I stopped when I looked upon him.  My eyes widening in horror at what I beheld.  It was the Monster Quexton.  Yes, it was him, a Monster.  Yet, the sight of him made me stop, and made all my dreams of revenge and pain shatter.  Monsters are immortal…in a way, but they can be killed, and they can age.  This Monster lay on a soft pallet on the floor; its withered old face was knarled with the age of centuries.  It was man shaped, with skinny arms that shook.  Blue slit eyes looked at him with curiosity and hope.

I opened its mouth and spoke.  "Ah…there you are.  I…I've been waiting for you."

I stood there, staring at him, not believing, and not wanting to accept this. 

"Finally, someone to take me out…out…put me out…" He cackled, a dry sound that made me shudder.  "What are you waiting for, boy?  Strike me!"  Snapped the monster, laying back down and closing his eyes.  "You came to do it…do it…"

I lowered my sword, and asked in a shaking voice.  "You…you want me to kill you?"  I was mortified…and a little terrified at the prospect.  This wasn't what I had imagined.  I couldn't take my revenge out on this old creature.  It was sickening and perverse.

Quexton smiled at me.  "Ah, foolish boy.  Why do you hesitate?  Aren't you going to kill me?  Go on; tell me of what I have done to you.  Though I don't remember killing off and Chimeras."

"I am human."  I said softly.  "I am a man."

"A boy."  

"_I am a man!_"  I cried, feeling my eyes fill with tears.  This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.  Even now, as I stand before Lina I cry to myself that it wasn't supposed to be like that.

Quexton looked curious.  "You are part human, and golem, and…"

"Demon."  I said, calming down.  I was trembling, and wanted to stop. 

"What's your name?  I would like to know the name of the Demon who kills me."

"I'm not…"  I stopped and swallowed.  "I wasn't always like this.  I was human."

"I don't care whether you were human, or are human, or will be human.  You call yourself a man, standing there before me, so it matters not to me!  Your name!"

No one had spoken to me that way, like I was a child.  "Zeldgadis Greywvers."  I finally answered.

The gnarled old face seemed to relax.  "Ahh.  Yes.  I remember that name.  Other Monsters would remember it as one who helped that Inverse child slay Shabernigdo, Zanaffar, and Hellmaster.  But I remember that name from before."

It would have been so much better if he didn't remember.  Then I could fuel that rage that I had lost.  But he remembered quite vividly as he told me what happened from his point of view.

"I had picked that tow for its beauty and happiness.  The people were content, and the Lord Greywvers was a good man.  Him, his wife, and his little boy.  It had to be destroyed.  The people's suffering would be even sweeter.  A village who was not happy is nothing compared to a town of happy content people.  So I ordered it destroyed and its occupants killed except for a few slaves.  But then, the Lord Greywvers came with an army to stop me.  The fool had no idea the vastness of my reach and power…at least those few years ago.  I ordered my general to sacrifice either his wife or son.  He did that.  The wife gave her life willingly so that her boy could live.

"I was pleased.  But then after the Lord Greywvers got killed, a connection was discovered.  One that led to Rezo the Red Priest.  It was him that led to my downfall.  He destroyed the main part of my army with a simple word.  After that I realized how the times have changed.  I could not gather another army…so I disappeared, hoping that some one would come and seek vengeance.  It would be so beautiful to die painfully.  To end it."

I stared in disbelief.  It was Rezo who had rendered this Monster to this?  "Why are you giving up?"  I asked, curious.  "Why aren't you going to fight for your life?"

"I served Lord Shabernigdo and Hellmaster.  They are gone.  I was one of the first created.  I am one of the oldest and have no place among the ranks of the Monster race any more.  I have been thrown away, and have no place in the Monster's plans.  I am content with that."  His eyes sharpened on me.  "So, Son of Greywvers, how will you kill me?  What suffering do you have planned for me?"

I drew back.  I no longer wanted my revenge.   No longer did I thirst it.  I wanted to leave, to go away.  Maybe if I left him, someone else could get rid of him.  But I knew I would be running away.  

"I am a man," I said, though my voice shook.  "I am not a Monster who would enjoy the suffering of something that cannot even defend itself."  

Could I do it?  Could I kill something this ancient?  Yet I knew that if I left him, he would continue being a Monster and terrorize more people.  He may target me for abandoning him.  "Prepare yourself."  I said softly, sheathing my sword.  

He grinned and closed his eyes.  Accepting his fate.  "I am so tired."  He whispered softly.

And I was preparing myself.  I had always killed in self-defense, in the heat of battle.  Even when I was under Rezo I never attacked someone defenseless. This was different.  I was going to kill not in self-defense, but actually destroy the life of something unable to defend itself.  In a way, it was almost like murder…

I shut my eyes from the image of the Monster who looked like an old grandfather, and crossed my arms to make and X.  And slowly, I started the words…

"_Source of all souls which dwells in the Eternal and the Infinite…_"

Strong Father…

"_Everlasting flame of blue…"_

Beautiful Mother…

"In my soul be called forth from the Infinite…" 

I have avenged thee.

"RAH TILT!!!!" 

And I leapt out of the tent as it was engulfed in a wild blue and silver inferno.  I stood; staring transfixed as the Monster within never uttered a scream as it was destroyed, burned from the Astro-plain and out.  The flames rose high into the air, above the trees, the world seeming to illuminate with silver and blue.

It was beautiful.

And I wept.

Xellos did not come to me after that.  I was not accosted by any of Quexton's men.  I was alone and was content with that.  I avoided the village, not wanting at all to be praised as a hero.  I had avenged my parents, and saved a whole village from death…yet my enemy did not raise one finger to defend it's self.  I did and do not see myself as a hero.  Sure what I did was astounding…though only to a normal person's point of view, but a hero fights to survive, against a strong force.  That was not what happened.

I drifted awhile, not even bothering to search for a cure.  It seemed meaningless to me. But then I heard of the lands beyond…unknown, uncharted lands that might have a clue for my cure.  So I went to the docks and there met Lina and Gouarry.  So now, alone with my two friends I think about this.  About my parents, about Quexton, about my true nature.

I had heard that revenge was supposed to be bitter sweet.  It was just plain bitter.  Killing him did not bring back my parents, and did not change the fact that I was still stuck in a cursed body.

But killing him proved something else.  I was human, I was a man.  I had demon blood in me, and I enjoyed killing.  Though not in cold blood, I looked forward to the next battle, and wanted to see my blade kissed with blood.  It was awful, but it was the truth, and is the truth.

Could I tell Lina this?  I thirsted for blood?  She would be disgusted probably.  And Amelia…

For a moment I wonder where the girl was at the moment.  I had heard that Prince Phil was funding the ships to go explore the new world.  I hope to see her, but…do I want her to see me?  Can I look down into her eyes and face her knowing what I was, and accepting it as a part of me?

"Zel?"  

I think Lina is getting worried about my silence.  

"I suppose."

That was answer enough.  For now at least.  I am just glad to be in their company again…and maybe Amelia too.

At least now I can look at a mirror and not turn away in disgust.

THE END 

::long silence::

How was that?  Was it okay?  Did it make sense?

Well, that ends my second complete fic.  That leaved three unfinished.  One of them a Slayers/Gundam crossover…so go read it!  Anyway, I really hope this last part made sense.  It's just mainly Zelgadis finally accepting:  okay, I am a third Demon…and Demons like to kill and have others suffer.  It's a part of him and he can pretend all he likes, but its not going to change anything.  More importantly, he is human, and not a boy any longer, but a man.  As a man, he has to be aware of himself, in his abilities and disabilities not matter how ugly they are.

I loved Zel in Slayers TRY.  It showed his savageness (think when he was fighting with Gravos and said it had been a long time since his blade had tasted blood) and sweetness (the end of Slayer TRY it shows Zel alone traveling, yet on his canteen of water was one of Amelia's bracelets).  He seemed more sure of himself, though he still hated his body and people's stares.  He hated it, but accepted it.

Zelgadis was a man.

Salrinia/Rue


End file.
